


Obsession

by DabsofKiwi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Mind Control, Possessive Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DabsofKiwi/pseuds/DabsofKiwi
Summary: Though he had used sex as a means of control and manipulation earlier in his rise to power he had never actually touched the woman before him. Not in any discernible sexual manner. She was already panting, his proximity almost too much for her overzealous nerves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ignore my grammar and what not. i ain't no writer!

Obsession  
A Voldemort/Bellatrix smut bucket.   
‘Unrequited love hurts. Walk it off.’

A wave of lust emanated from the woman sitting to his left. Her heavily lidded eyes focused unblinkingly on the distressed woman levitating above the grand mahogany table of the Malfoy manner.

The soft whimpers escaping the huddled form of Charity Burbage were pulling at the corner of Bellatrix's full lips- hooking them into a sharp smirk.

Her arousal from chaos and torture was a continual form of entertainment for the Dark Lord. His curiosity peaked when a particularly high shriek left the muggle studies professor- causing the olive skinned woman to seize her bottom lip in her teeth, and shift uncomfortably.

Her stormy eyes flicked back to her Master, a small wavering in her expression as she attempted to compose herself. A light blush dusted her high cheekbones.  
Watching her from his peripherals he flicked the borrowed wand, the curse dancing off his tongue smoothly before the broad form of the aloft woman fell to the table with a lumbered crack.

"Nagini, dinner." He purred, the strong muscles of his beloved serpent tensing against his shoulders as she moved lazily toward her next meal.

~`~

The Death Eaters filed out of the grand dining area, one by one. Nodding meekly, some in adoration, some in barely concealed fear- mutterings of ‘my lord’ were the only sound amidst the swift pops of apparition. 

The notable man watched with subtle amusement as the woman of the house stiffly welcomed him to stay as long as he saw fit, a hesitant end to her words as she whispered a praise of, “Anything for you, my lord.” 

Narcissa’s silk blond hair whipped around the corner quickly, leaving him alone with her sister and Nagini.

A spitting hiss and the engorged reptile bounded down the hall after the platinum locked woman, her stride much heavier than usual. 

“Colloportus” It was a mere thought, the door at the far end of the long room slammed shut with a lock, breaking the daze of the dark haired woman. 

“Anything I can do for you, Master?” Her smoldering eyes lidded, long lashes casting a webbed shadow against the sharp curve of her cheek. The question had an alluring desperation. A plea of obedience. 

The smile that curled Voldemort’s thin lips would have been charming if it had danced across his once chiseled and handsome features. Though Bellatrix swooned all the same. 

“Yes, Bella… There is something you can do for me.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He saw her inch closer, hanging on every syllable that dripped from his venomous lips.   
“My lord.” Her eyes widened with delight. 

“I need you to take care of that cur of a sister you have.” 

There was a long pause before Bella began a stammering of, “B-but my lord-“ 

“Silence, Bellatrix. You dare to question my orders?” She winced at the use of her full name, a deep rumble emitting from the man’s thin chest. “I know about the unbreakable vow. She has to go, and you are the one to do it.” His crimson eyes rounded upon her. She was sunk low in her seat, a tremble in the pout of her bottom lip. 

She avoided his gaze, instead choosing to study the thin grain of the polished table. The only thing that rivaled her obedience to the Dark Lord was her unyielding loyalty to her younger sister. 

A ghostly pale hand with long, skeletal fingers clutched the back of her ringlet-ed hair, craning her neck painfully.   
“She is the weak link to our cause, Bella…” His last word was a purr, his fingers loosened, stroking the curve of her hairline gently. She leaned into his rare touch, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“She is weak. And you are…-“ He trailed off. Just as her eyes snapped open, imploringly- he seized the back of her thick tresses, lifting her from her chair and tossing her effortlessly against the nearest wall. 

A smirk tugged at him. She watched, her own mouth agape as he sauntered towards her. His billowing black robes sweeping the floor with every step. 

“You, my dear are-“ His icy fingers stroked the hollow of her cheek- delicately tucking a misplaced curl behind the shell of her burning ear. 

“Weak.” His chuckle was cynical. She whimpered. 

“Pathetic.” He was close, the heat from his breath fanning out against the curve of her flushed neck. An almost inaudible moan escaped her. 

With the use of wandless magic, he restrained her against the chilled brick. She rose up off the ground, her heaving bosom the only allowed movement within her otherwise motionless form. 

“You are… so.. darling.” Voldemort nearly choked on the last word. She was as easy to play as the tight chords of a Violin, and in the ways of seducing the young witch- he was a maestro. 

Though he had used sex as a means of control and manipulation earlier in his rise to power he had never actually touched the woman before him. Not in any discernible sexual manner. She was already panting, his proximity almost too much for her overzealous nerves. 

Waving a hovering hand above her blouse- it burst open with ease. Her lungs relished in the freedom. She was devouring oxygen like a dying man.   
He could feel the heat spilling off her. His serpent-like features split into a devilish grin. 

“Bella, is there anything -i- can do for you? Any…repayment you desire?” Charm tumbled from his words- the smooth seduction of honey and promise. Love and affection were the ultimate symbols of weakness in his opinion, but feigning the latter as a means to an end? 

He was in the mood for a game. 

How far could little Bella go before she snapped. Would she resort to savagely ending her sister with her bare hands? The stoic body of the lithe woman, brought to him as a trophy of servitude? 

He felt a bubble of heat rise in his abdomen at the thought.

“Master..” She hissed. Her accent sloppily parted, a pink tongue darting out to moisten parched lips. 

“Bella. Beauty.” He coo’d, a single nail tracing the dip of her collarbone.   
She had once been the vision of her namesake. Glowing olive skin- bronzed by the daring sun, now ashen and pale from many years in the trenches of Azkaban. Her steely slate eyes a tarnished grey, embodied by shadows and bags- madness brimming at edge of her waterline. Her aristocratic features sunken from undernourishment, aged less like fine wine and more akin to a curdled brew.   
She could have been ravishing. 

“Can I have you. My lord.” 

Before gracing her with an answer, his lips ghosted hers. A shudder quaked her entire body, his mouth moving deliberately against hers- a mere breath between them.   
“Of course, my pet.” 

And with a snap her clothes fell in a heavy heap on the floor.


	2. Loyalty

Chapter two: Loyalty

The room was silent, save for Bellatrix’s shuttering breaths. She was still suspended to the cold stone, her bare feet dangling gingerly above the heap of worn and warm clothing.   
Her Master stood before her, fully clothed. His slit-like scarlet eyes stroking the delicate curves of her nude form- studying her. She felt a chill erupt deep within her tight chest as his serpentine tongue flicked the chap of his smirking lips. 

“Azkaban wasn’t as unkind to you as I would have… suspected, Bella.” The vowel of her name rolling off his vocal words in a husked rumble. A flush of pink rose in her hollowed cheeks. Her school-girl grin doing very little to muffle the giggle that left her. 

Without hesitation, or another word his long bone-white fingers clasped the front of her throat firmly. This action lifting the enchantment, and he skated her around him with ease- only to toss her carelessly about the broad tabletop. 

“What will Rodolphus say?” His tone dripping with mild humor. 

“H-he doesn’t have to know, my lord.” Her argument was thick with hunger. She avoided his eyes, but lazily scurried to an upright position after her unceremonious landing.   
“You would betray your husband- for me?” Sharp teeth peeked out of his ever increasing sneer. 

“I… would do anything for you, Master.” Her last word was labored. Her eyes now steady, and unblinking on this lithe man before her. He held such power for someone so thin. Even in his younger days, she had never seen him as anything less than a god. Her notice of his nearly windily fragile body made no difference, however. 

“Would you show me this same loyalty?” His question was cold. Bellatrix felt her skin tighten from the chill. 

“I-“ Her voice caught, “Am your most loyal follower. Your most devout servant. Allow me to prove it to you. Please.” Her face vanished behind a thick mess of inky tress as she knelt on the table in a deep bow. 

“We shall see what we can do with such a…” He pushed her back, her limbs splaying her bare body out before him. His eyes widened with delight- under the mess of tattered robes, and moth eaten cloth she was still eclipsing beautiful.   
“-Charming disappointment.”

Her legs were long and shapely- rolling up to wide hips that whittled into a pinch of waist. Her skin was unblemished- and impossibly soft, he guessed merely from sight. She was so wrongfully pale, almost matte- a thin sheen of sweat across her endowed chest dispelling the theory that she could have been plastic. 

He drank in the willing albeit scandalized woman before him. A thick thatch of hair protected her flower- this caused a swell in the pale man’s loins. He wanted nothing more than to disrupt this. To destroy the flawless pattern of perfect curve and cowering innocence. 

There was one strap of cloth that adorned her body- a garter, sheathing an elegantly engraved silver dagger. He had seen her toying with it before. He knew torture was her past-time, rarely was she in it for the quick kill. 

There was a smattering of dried blood on the leather wrapped handle, the careful swirls of her fingers imprinted on the animal hide. Or was it… human?

“Hmmm… Do you want me, Bella? Or would you like to prove this… loyalty you speak of?” His words came out in a lazy drawl- the point of his sculpted fingers tempting her faculties as he swept further up her legs. His thumbs stopping to massage the dipped crease where thigh met hip. 

Bellatrix swallowed a hearty moan. 

His frigid hands clashed harshly with the fevered zeal dispelling from each of her pores. He snaked his arctic touch up her hips, thumbs brushing briskly through her hair, and gliding over the sharp curve up hips- across a lush abdomen and faintly cupping the bottom of her breasts. Her back arched up at this, her thick lashes once again fluttering closed. 

Bellatrix let out the piercing shriek- that quickly turned into a cackle. Her eyes snapping open and falling upon the grotesque scene before her, a white-hot pain in her stomach. Voldemort had taken her pleasure as an opportunity to unsheathe her blade, and plunge it deep within her torso. A puddle of impervious crimson stained her sisters table- warming the trails of tender nerve-stroke that the dark lord had left in his wake. 

He was pushing the liquid, decorating her body with the unyielding color. She giggled, her eyes catching the intense concentration knitted where his eyebrows used to be.   
Voldemort ripped the blade out and covered the wound with his hand. Just as Bellatrix was about to question his motives a storm of blinding white pleasure detonated inside her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She felt a sharp pain as she rose up into his touch, an ache awoke that she could very nearly reach until-

R-RIP-PP-

She could hear her skin splitting. This time the sharp edge merely coaxed the flesh of her left hip to separate. A chuckle caught in her throat. A small splatter of blood projected across his shapeless features- this eyes narrowed. He gripped her hip with a strength she had not anticipated and before she could register anything- she was enveloped almost completely in an unending sea of arousal. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing against her swelling sex. 

With reckless abandon, her legs opened and she hooked her foot around the small of his back, attempting to pull him closer. 

“Now… now…” His laugh was laced with mirth, his eyes shining bright in the dimming candlelight surrounding them. He lent forward and kissed her knee. Then her thigh. His slithering tongue lapped at her moistened peach before she seized with discomfort, the blade of the knife penetrating her harshly. Almost as quickly as the pain had ceased, her body quaked with an unparalleled ecstasy. 

Screams of Euphoria shook the walls. The entire Malfoy family was now subjected to the intoxicatingly terrible melody of this woman. 

She was thrashing and bucking her hips, the knife still firmly set. Her small hands laced around his own before the Dark lord snapped his fingers and a very long snake wound it’s way around her neck and wrists. It’s powerful muscles nudging her windpipe when she fought too hard. 

“Now now Belle- play nice…” A French lilt to his words as he ripped the knife out of her sex- swinging it wildly, only to halt flush with her heart.


End file.
